Tag: trusting God

Freedom, Not Furniture

Trusting God to provide all we need, even when it looks like that trust will cost us.

June 2018

“Buy some furniture and call us back.”– That’s what the SNAP (aka ‘Food Stamps’) representative told my wife over the phone. We just learned we lost $280 in monthly food stamp assistance. The reason? We had too much money in our saving account.

What’s the suggested solution? Blow through our ‘Dave Ramsey’ 6-Month Emergency Fund with purchases we don’t need. Then call back when we have less money in our bank account.

Rewind – March 21, 2013

It’s Thursday morning. My pregnant wife and I sit in my parents’ kitchen, pouring over income eligibility requirements for various government assistance programs: SNAP, Medicaid, ACA (‘Obamacare’) insurance, etc. Wednesday night we interviewed with a church board about a job as lead pastor.

The church leadership had already decided to close and offer the facilities to another church. But that plan suddenly fell through and, eight days later, I became the Pastor. [Eventually, our church did close. We’re now preparing to restart as Renovation Community.]

We clearly felt God calling us to leave Kansas City and begin serving this dying church. But we didn’t see how our family could survive without receiving government assistance. Since then, our children have been on Medicaid and we received food stamps.

December 31, 2017

I received my last-ever paycheck from my second job.  I had worked a second job the entire time I’d been a pastor. But that second job finally ended and, with it, a $500/month wage. But my wonderful wife helped us tighten our family budget so we barely missed that second income. (Ok…our family’s Chief Budget Officer might disagree with that last sentence).

Tuesday – July 24, 2018

A $500 check arrived in the mail on Monday. Checks arrive in the mail quite often around here. Two weeks ago our church received an unrequested $20,000 (yes, $20,000!) check. We’ll use it to cover long-overdue facilities repairs and salary for our longtime volunteer pastor. But all the previous checks we have received are either clearly for the church OR clearly for my family’s personal needs.

This check on Monday is confusing; it’s made out to me, but the memo line says it’s for our church’s summer day camp and feeding program.

I call Tuesday to thank the donors and carefully investigate where they intended us to use their donation. It turns out the donors addressed the check to me because they couldn’t remember our new church’s name.

So the check is for the church, not my family. Difficult news for my wife when we’re already over-budget on groceries. I hang up the phone.

In the silence, my mind lingers over this information. The check is addressed to me. So I could cash it at the bank. If this generous person’s check supports the pastor, the gift is still, ultimately, supporting the church. 

God gives me the strength to quickly text our treasurer the truth…a $500 check addressed to me was actually meant for the church and will go in the offering plate on Sunday.

Saturday Morning – July 28, 2018

Our two boys had a slumber party at grandparents. My wife and I take advantage of the child-free morning with a walk along the Trinity River. Eventually, our slim family budget takes over the conversation. It takes over the walk, the car ride home, and our next hour on the couch.

Should I find a second job?

Can we tighten our budget anymore?

Should I ask the church for a raise?

How can we get that Food Stamps money back?

Is it a wise financial decision to work for a church and host large ministries for the poor if we don’t have enough grocery money?

Is ‘waiting to see what God wants me to do’ a cop-out, given our tight our budget is? Should I act immediately?

My health isn’t good; how would a second job affect my energy levels for my family and church responsibilities?

I already take on more than I can handle (as I write this, I’m sick from juggling a painting project at a nearby elementary school, renovating a formerly homeless church member’s new home, and hosting our summer day camp). How can I possibly add one more task to my plate?

We finish the conversation at 11:50am. I have a special prayer journal I keep for ‘big’ prayer requests. I quickly jot down a prayer for God to give us a large financial gift.

Saturday, 1:00pm – July 28, 2018

Random questions begin arriving via text from a friend out-of-state.

‘Would you rather have a one-time gift for a certain amount of money or receive a recurring monthly donation continuing for an undetermined amount of time in the future?’

‘I want to give you money.’

‘Do you have a need right now?’

I tell my friend I only share needs with God and strive to never interfere with how God’s Spirit may direct someone to give.

My frustrated friend has to make decisions about his donation with absolutely no help from me.

He finally decides and sends me this text: “If it doesn’t come through, let me know. Should be a one-time $500 gift and $100 monthly recurring gift.”

That last text message arrived at 1:20pm, exactly 1.5 hours after my wife and I finished our stressful budget conversation.

Sunday evening, July 29, 2018

I gave that $500 check to our church treasurer.

After our worship service, I begin counseling a church member on personal finance. My counsel-turned-sermon addresses the freedom we feel when we relinquish all financial control to God.

I shared a story from a few weeks ago about turning down a job opportunity over lunch…

An old acquaintance toured our church’s summer day camp and then took me to lunch. As we left the parking lot, he asked where I’d like to eat.

This entire meeting, tour, and lunch was his idea, not mine. So, I explain to the church member, I felt no pressure to pay for our meal. I was, quite literally, just along for the ride.
I explained it feels the same way when we allow God to control all aspects of life. Of course God will provide for my needs if He wants me to serve at this church. I need only to follow his will and make sure I spend HIS money in ways that honor him. If it’s God’s will, he’ll pay the bill.

Jesus, I Am Resting, Resting

By Sunday night I felt exhausted. Exhausted from preaching. Exhausted counseling. Exhausted from speaking at an orientation for this week’s visiting youth group here at our day camp. My mind, soul, and body needed rest.

Our church’s summer day camp and feeding program, Camp FUSE, is 9 weeks, 5 days a week, 10.5 hours a day. The current small group of people who call Renovation Community their church home couldn’t pull it off without visiting summer youth groups and summer interns.

In addition to working long hours, our interns have to read…a lot. One of their assigned books is a biography on Hudson Taylor, British missionary to China and founder of the China Inland Mission. Before ever stepping foot on foreign soil, Taylor prepared himself for future hardships by practicing various forms of fasting.

He fasted from all but the simplest and cheapest food, fasted from warm clothing, fasted from using comfortable sleeping mattresses, fasted from using enough coal to actually keep his small apartment warm in the winter, and fasted from asking anyone other than God for financial assistance.

Taylor worked for a doctor who regularly forgot to pay his one employee in a timely manner. But Taylor always entrusted the man’s memory to God, alone.

I’ve just finished another Sunday night without asking church leadership for a raise. In five years of service, I’ve never asked for a raise.

Hudson Taylor’s favorite hymn, “Jesus, I Am Resting, Resting” played on repeat in my head all day, and most of the week [included at the end]. I enter our quiet parsonage. Our boys are asleep. Most of the lights are out. My wife is already in bed.

I walk into the kitchen. The light over the sink shines on my weekly paycheck resting on the counter. Next to it is another check for $1,100.00. In the memo line, our treasurer’s handwriting reads “$1,000 Bonus, $100/month salary increase.”

Freedom, Not Furniture

After five years of serving the poor in our church’s neighborhood, I’ve met hundreds of people who receive some sort of government assistance. It is a wonderful blessing to many, including my family.

But I’ve also seen a few recipients embrace a mentality and lifestyle of Enslavement to that assistance. The longer they receive government assistance, the more difficult it is for these few to believe in Divine Assistance.

Their High Priests become the employees in the Benefits offices, like the woman who told my wife to make ourselves poorer by spending money on furniture we don’t need. Truly, you cannot serve both God and money.

The God of the Bible teaches us to spend money wisely. The Book of Proverbs especially teaches us to save and work hard. But Scripture is also abundantly clear that my hard work, a Savings account, and Food Stamps don’t ultimately pay my bills. God pays my bills.

The Bible also teaches I have Freedom because of Jesus Christ’s atoning work. The Apostle Paul, an early church leader, wrote to a group of Christians in the ancient territory of Galatia (modern Turkey). Paul explained, “For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1).

Paul’s words remind me about the freedom I have in Christ, including financial freedom. I am free to follow Christ wherever he leads. If following Christ leads me away from receiving government assistance, he will provide means some other way along the journey

Christ may choose to provide for my family in any way he chooses, including from friends out-of-state and generous church leaders.

Christ is my High Priest, not some faceless government employee.

Christ offers freedom.

I choose Freedom, not Furniture.

Jesus, I Am Resting, Resting

Verse 1

Jesus, I am resting, resting,
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For by Thy transforming power,
Thou hast made me whole.

Verse 2

Oh, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea!
Oh, how marvelous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloved,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

Verse 3

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart;
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings:
Thine is love indeed!

Verse 4

Ever lift Thy face upon me
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting ’neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting,
Fill me with Thy grace.

Refrain

Jesus, I am resting, resting,
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

–Jesus, I Am Resting, Resting

Jean Sophia Pigott, 1876

Photo Credit: Federica Campanaro

Jesus Is Calling Me to the Laundry Room

washing-machine

I turned down an invitation to apply for pastoral openings at some good churches this week.
Our denomination has a title called District Superintendent. One of the many jobs they do is help churches on their district find a new pastor when the previous pastor leaves.
A DS from another state sent me an email. He asked me to send him my résumé. He heard one of my former ministry professors speak very highly of me. Of course, he’s never heard one of my long-winded sermons!
He requested I consider applying for some of the open pastoral positions in this other state.

A terrific recommendation and a request that I apply for some job openings. Isn’t that the clear voice of God saying it’s time to go pastor a different church?

In the Gospel of John, Jesus describes himself as the “Good Shepherd.” He says “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”
I heard my Good Shepherd’s voice this week. But he was not calling me to another church. He was calling me to my laundry room.
Our church is 20 minutes away from the homeless shelters near downtown Fort Worth. You’ll always find homeless up there around Lancaster Street. But, if you pay attention, you’ll find many homeless in our neighborhood. They get cups of free water from the gas station, pick up leftover food as the restaurants close each night, and hide behind dumpsters. I see the “regulars” as my son and I walk to the dollar store. The regulars in our area know our church now.
When a new homeless person asks the Goodwill store across the street for help, the employees send them to the Parsonage (the house in church property where we live– where the “Parson” lives).

The “regulars” have used our church overhangs for shelter during the rain. They rarely join us Sunday mornings because crowds now make them jittery after years of living alone.

But they stop and talk to me as I work out in the yard. I sometimes pay them a little cash for odd jobs around our dilapidated church buildings. They mow the lawn, mop the floors, dig ditches, and throw away years of accumulated church clutter.

As they work, I make them a sandwich and wash their dirty clothes. It always takes two, sometimes three, wash cycles to remove the smell. If they have both light and dark clothing, I wash them separately to insure their darks aren’t covered with white fuzz balls after drying. As the second load waits by the washing machine, their smell overpowers our small laundry room. We open the window.

There’s a story about one of God’s ancient prophets. God said he would soon show himself to Elijah. As the prophet waits for God to appear, a cataclysmic wind “tears the mountains apart,” an earthquake strikes, and a sudden fire appears. But the Bible says the “LORD was not in them.” The Bible says God finally shows up to speak with Elijah in “a gentle whisper.”

Every apparent act of God…isn’t.

A homeless man’s clothes were in our laundry room when I received that email. But my Good Shepherd’s voice was not in that email. He wasn’t telling me to leave my current church.
Instead, I heard Jesus’ voice calling out from the laundry room. I heard him repeating the words he said 2,000 years ago…”whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). Once again, Jesus said he did not come to be served, but to serve” (Mark 10:45).
And so, I washed the dirty clothes of a homeless man. Jesus washed feet. I wash clothes. I washed, dried, and folded them with care.
As I folded this man’s underwear, I suddenly pictured Jesus’ last supper with his disciples.
I pull the underwear from the dryer last. Will this man be embarrassed when he receives his clean underwear? I fold it and place it underneath other clothes. Where the disciples embarrassed when Jesus held their dirty feet in his hands? The Bible says “love covers a multitude of sins.” Did the human embodiment of Perfect Love try to cover each disciple’s wet, dirty feet from the view of other watching disciples? Would Jesus have hidden the underwear in the middle of the folded pile, as I just did?
Other pastors will receive an email similar to the one I read last week. ‘Their name came up…would they like to interview?, etc.’ A few pastors will hear their Good Shepherd’s voice in those emails. They will hear a call, like ancient Abraham, to leave a familiar home and follow God where He leads them. But, to borrow a phrase from Elijah’s story, the LORD was not in my inbox.
The email was flattering. But it was not the voice of God. I believe I already heard God’s voice 10 months ago say I would serve the people at my church for a very long time.

Most of us want God to show up in the windstorm or the fire from heaven. Am I the only one who reads into every big life event as some sort of special sign from God?
How easily I could have claimed God sent me a message, right there in my inbox. Finally! I’ll go pastor somewhere my family doesn’t have to use food stamps and Medicaid for survival. Thank you Jesus!

If you go looking for it, you’ll always find that “greener grass” on the other side of some fence. I spent last Tuesday morning praying about my family’s finances. I told God he had to do something to cover the extra expenses we’re incurring as we expect our second child in only a few days.
Maybe I could pastor somewhere else, where I don’t have beg God for money.
Kelly checked the mail Tuesday afternoon. She found a letter from the state of Kansas. They tracked us down even though we changed addresses twice. We have $320 in unclaimed property from the state.
And I heard my Good Shepherd remind me of Psalm 23….”He makes me lie down in green pastures.”

I need not search for greener grass on the other side of a fence. That’s God’s job. Jesus is my Good Shepherd. He will always lead me to green pastures. I need only follow his voice.
Jesus led me to pastor a church that now looks as diverse as our community. Jesus led me to a church building that now houses 3 other churches (soon to be 4), a funeral home that serves poor families, and an incomplete gym that serves thousands of meals to needy children each summer.
Jesus hasn’t mistakenly led me to the wrong pasture. I am exactly where he wants me, doing exactly what he intended. He knows our financial situation and will always provide what we need. He knows our building is leaking from that rainstorm He sent this morning. He knows the difficulties of continually serving poor people who can’t afford to repay us. My Shepherd is Good. He knows what he’s doing. I trust in the One who gave his life for me. And I will live in this green pasture until he leads me out of it.

As I type these very words, another homeless man’s clothes just finished the spin cycle in our donated washer. Jesus is calling me from the laundry room, “Go start another load.”

“I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“Come unto me and rest;
lay down, O weary one, lay down
your head upon my breast.”
I came to Jesus as I was,
so weary, worn, and sad;
I found him in a resting place,
and he has made me glad.”
— “I Heard The Voice of Jesus Say” 1846 Horatius Bonar